CHAPTER Y. 
FROM QUEZALTENANGO TO THE PACIFIC. 
UR little mozo was only fifteen years old, and his 
YY load was so heavy that we had to wait for him 
at every turn in the road; until, after helping the poor 
little fellow for miles, Frank took the load himself. 
As we reached the high ridge where there is the last 
view of Quezaltenango, we noticed that all the mozos — 
of whom there were many on the road — looked hack 
at the city and removed their hats, as if in salutation. 
We did not reach the hotel at Totonicapan until nearly 
eight o’clock; but we had no trouble in the clear night, — 
except in trying to get a drink at a way-side fountain, 
into which we nearly tumbled headlong. 
The President arrived in the morning with a cavalcade 
of thirty riders and several large mule-wagons. The 
Plaza was deserted, and the streets almost empty. All 
the Indios kept within doors, and evidently were not anx¬ 
ious to honor the chief magistrate. The usual nuisance 
of soldiers, however, was there; and it was very amus¬ 
ing to watch them fire the guns in the Plaza for a salute. 
To obtain animals was our first desire, and we tele¬ 
graphed to the Jefe of Solola, who had promised to send 
his mules; but he answered us that he could not, as he was 
called away, with all his attendants. So we seemed to be 
imprisoned in this Indian city, and I resolved to apply 
